Get your act together, Kate. I need to stop thinking these thoughts. For all I know, he could be a married man, for fuck’s sake. And I haven’t had enough caffeine yet today, nor do I have my sassy pants on to take on his wife if she comes running out to stake her claim.
He finally looks up, and he jolts. His dark eyes meet mine, and I nearly melt. “Umm, can I help you?”
Wow, even his voice is sexy—deep and rough. Lord help me. My mind instantly wonders what his voice would sound like saying my name as I make him come. Shit, I’ve been off the cock for too long. I need to get laid and stop thinking dirty thoughts about my new neighbor.
He clears his throat, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Hi, sorry. I’m Kate. I live across the street.” I point over my shoulder toward my house behind us. He raises a brow in confusion, wondering what that has to do with anything to him. I continue. “I was just outside on my porch, and your little boy ran out the front door and peed in your front yard. I wasn’t sure if you were aware of him doing this, or maybe it’s something new.”
We stand off in silence. He huffs out a breath and grabs the back of his neck, clearly irritated by the information I just gave him. I try to steady my expression so as to not give it away that I notice just how his T-shirt clings to his sculpted arms.
He finally speaks. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Jesus, does he have the memory of a goldfish?
“Kate.” I extend my hand to shake his, expecting him to introduce himself. However, he just looks down at my hand as if it’s diseased. It may be a little dirty with paint, but that’s about all.
“Right… Miss,” he says curtly.
“No, it’s just Kate.” This time, I cut him off. Two can play this game, buddy. If I had known I was going to have a standoff this morning before I even finished my coffee, I might have put a little something extra in my mug.
“Do you have kids?” What the hell does that have anything to do with this?
“Well, no, I—”
“Then don’t tell me how to raise mine,” he interrupts. I may not have any kids, but I have fucking common sense.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I just didn’t want him to walk into the road or walk away.”
“Are you some neighborhood patrol or something?”
“Are you always this rude to people you’ve just met?” Maybe I should just ask to speak to the boy’s mother. Hopefully, she is a lot friendlier than him. I try to catch a glimpse of his left hand to see if I spot a ring, but he’s not making it easy for me.
“When they come over to my house and attack my parenting skills, I do.” His nostrils flare, and the vein in the side of his neck pulses.
I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. Sassy-pants Kate Lawson, it is. “You were the one not watching your kid,” I shout. “I’m not attacking you or judging you. I was just trying to be a friendly neighbor, for fuck’s sake! Clearly, I was wrong for giving a damn.”
His hard features soften for just a moment before he puts the facade back up, and anger swirls in his beautiful dark eyes.
“Look, Kate.” He enunciates my name as if I’m a young child getting reprimanded. “Thanks for your concern, but like I said, I don’t need your help to raise my son. I’m doing just fine on my own.”
Well, I guess that might answer the question about the wife—for whatever reason, she’s not in the picture. Maybe she got wind of his stellar personality. Pretty sure this dickhead wasn’t voted Mr. Congeniality in high school.
Mr. Who I Never Caught His Name crosses his arms, signifying he has nothing more to say to me. I think of the first thing that comes to my head, and instead of it being an overly sarcastic response I would typically go for, I settle on, “Well, okay then.” Okay, so I went for a bit of sarcasm.
I spin on my feet without even saying goodbye and head back home.
I let my vagina do the talking over my brain and nonchalantly peek over my shoulder to find him still looking at me. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are smoldering. I twist my head back around as my panties instantly dampen at the sight of him. In hopes he is still staring at me, I add a little extra sway of my hips to my steps. I’m just stepping up on my front porch when I hear the trash can lid slam. It’s not until I hear his front door slam a little too dramatically that I finally feel like I can breathe.
Well, so much for friendly neighbors moving in. Welcome to the neighborhood, asshole.